


Sacrifice to the Gods

by BatzMaru65 (tmweis2771)



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Exploring a relationship, First Meetings, M/M, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Very mild violence in the first chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-01-03 01:36:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21171260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmweis2771/pseuds/BatzMaru65
Summary: Due to some unfortunate circumstances, Bruce became a live sacrifice to appease a volcano that the natives thought was erupting. However, he was saved at the last minute which resulted in him becoming a captive to the Kryptonians.An AU where Bruce is not yet Batman, and Kal-El, together with his parents and a number of survivors, managed to escape Krypton before its destruction. They took up refuge on Earth, hidden from sight on an island, and by a twist of fate, both Bruce and Kal met, changing their lives forever.Definitely strangers to friends to lovers and definitely not canon-compliant.





	1. A Series of Unfortunate Events

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HellsAngel921](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HellsAngel921/gifts).

> This was inspired by a fic trade idea with someone on Tumblr. You can find me on Superbat Addicted.

They carried him up the slope, slung from a bamboo pole like a wild boar freshly caught and killed. Despite his fierce struggles, he could not break free and each frantic tug only made the bonds tighten further round his ankles and wrists. Before long, blood was welling out from where the twine had cut too deep, and his fingers and toes had gone numb due to the lack of circulation.

This was crazy, utterly crazy. To be saved from drowning only to die in the pits of a volcano! Bruce could only curse his damn rotten luck. All this was the fault of that freak thunderstorm which had blown in from the Indian Ocean in a hurry. Why couldn’t that stupid storm wait a little while longer. Another 20 minutes and he would be home after dropping off the last of his mail at _Vashafaru_. Unfortunately, Lady Luck was not on his side that day. Hit by a bolt of lightning, his twin-otter DHC-6-300 had crashed into the waters and he had survived by clinging desperately to a piece of wreckage.

For two days he was adrift without food, water and any means of navigation and communication. Burnt by the sun in the day and chilled by the cold at night, Bruce weakened rapidly. He was on the verge of passing out when good fortune finally decided to pay him a visit. Washed ashore at the very last minute, Bruce was discovered by a local tribe as he laid on the sand, barely conscious.

Over the next few days, the natives carefully nursed him back to health. Through a mix of hand gestures and broken Dhivehi (for the locals spoke in a dialect Bruce was not familiar with), he learnt that they were the _Giraavaru_ and their island home was called _Gira_, an unknown to Bruce despite his extensive travels in the Maldives as a mail delivery pilot. The village they lived in was actually nestled in the shadows of a volcano which the locals feared and worshipped at the same time. Every full moon, a pilgrimage would be made to the top of the volcano where the locals would throw offerings into the dark crater in the hope that the gods would be pleased and no eruption would occur to wipe out their tiny island.

Bruce was not at all surprised that such beliefs still exist in the age of modern technology and scientific advancement. There were countless atolls and islands in the Maldives, some of which had no contact with the outside world. This must be one of those for the locals had never seen anyone like Bruce either – tall and fair-skinned unlike the smaller brown-skinned natives. They kept calling him, _Dhun_, despite his attempts to correct them.

That word, Bruce recognised. It meant smoke and though he could not figure out why the locals kept addressing him in this way, he was not too bothered by it. Swept away by the euphoria of having survived death, Bruce was too busy savouring life. The natives were good to him too, offering him their choicest meats and sweetest fruits and even clothing him in their finest. It was heavenly compared to the ordeal he had gone through and he should have been a little more alert, a little more suspicious of the privileges he was receiving.

Out for a stroll one morning in the village square, warmly greeted by the locals he encountered, Bruce was admiring the scenery which he was never tired of. His eyes tracked the tightly-knit foliage which stretched out from the village outskirts, up the volcanic slopes, thinning out near the top to reveal the stark beauty of the craggy rim. Just then, a streak of light caught his eye, blazing across the clear blue skies. At first curious, then growing increasingly alarmed, Bruce watched in horror as the light slammed into the side of the volcano. A deafening noise boomed across the village, shocking everyone. Smoke, rock and debris exploded in a gush at the point of impact and the ground beneath Bruce’s feet began to rumble and shake. Bruce stumbled and fell to his knees and so did a number of locals. Everywhere, huts trembled, wood broke and unfortunate souls were knocked down or buried by collapsing structures. Loud snaps, smashes and crashes intermingled with the screams of the natives, creating a symphony, terrifying and hair-raising.

As fast as it had happened, the quaking stopped, leaving behind stunned silence, minds not yet caught up to the fact that the ground was no longer shaking. Then chaos erupted. Shouts and cries filled the air as the locals scrambled to check on their loved ones and their worldly possessions – wailing soon arose over the injured while others moaned in despair at the destruction of their homes. Bruce picked himself up, tensed and anxious, and rushed to help. However, his offer of assistance was met with glares, curses and shaking fists. Those who had survived relatively unscathed began to gather around him, voices accusing and fingers jabbing at him and the volcano. And Bruce finally understood – why they called him _Dhun_, why he was given the preferential treatment. The villagers thought he was from the volcano and they were now blaming him for bringing the calamity down upon them.

The mob grew aggressive and Bruce lashed out instinctively, shoving two to the ground and punching the other in the guts to protect himself. That only agitated the mob further and as one they surged forward eager for blood. In minutes, Bruce was bruised and battered, his clothes torn in several places. A particularly vicious punch had him toppling to the ground and then the kicking began.

Body curled and arms wrapped tight round his head, Bruce gritted his teeth as pain exploded from every inch of his body. The torment was excruciating and inescapable and it was getting harder to breath by the minute. All of the sudden, the abuse stopped and Bruce shuddered in relief, feeling a sense of space opening up around him, He cautiously looked up and found the chieftain looming over him, eyes cold and hard. Yelling and gesturing angrily, Bruce had no idea what the chieftain was saying but the natives seemed to like what they had heard. They cheered loudly, giving way to two of the biggest natives – the chieftain’s right-hand men. They hauled him up, rough and forceful and bound his ankles and wrists with thick woven twine. Sliding a bamboo pole through the loop of his arms and legs, the procession began, the chieftain leading the way while the rest of the villagers followed behind Bruce and his two bearers. At some point, the drumming and chanting began – _Ellun dhun alifann farubadha! Ellun dhun alifann farubadha_!

Their intention was clear. Throw the jinx into the volcano and return the ingrate to where he had come from.

Tears of frustration slid down Bruce’s cheeks as the procession rounded a large rock slab and the caldera came into view. Dropping him hard to the ground, Bruce groaned as he was yanked from the bamboo pole and then lifted up by the same two men who had carried him up the volcano – one gripping him by the ankles and the other under his armpits. Together, they walked to the edge of the crater before stopping. From his angle, all Bruce could see beyond the sun-drenched rim was a well of darkness and terror constricted his chest.

The drumming and chanting grew frenzied as the chieftain stepped into view. Raising both arms, regal and commanding, the loud noises stopped and Bruce finally heard the howling of the wind as it zipped its way across the rugged volcano. For a moment, he imagined himself being blown away to safety but such miracles only happened in fairy tales and he was not in one of them.

A few more words from the chieftain and silence fell. All eyes were on him, anticipatory and hungry as the two men began to count as they swung him.

_Ekeh. _

Sweat trickled down.

_Dheyh. _

Heart pounding desperately.

_Thineh._

Bruce squeezed his eyes shut as he flew out and up before gravity acted on him. Down and down he rushed, body stiff and braced for the impact that would definitely spell his death. Would it be painful, he dimly wondered or would he die before his brain realised that his body was smashed and broken?

Out of the blue, the falling sensation stopped and Bruce frowned. Isn’t that too quick an end for a fall that was supposed to last thousands of feet? And the landing did not feel right either, too warm and comfortable to be the rocky bottom of a crater. Opening his eyes in trepidation, Bruce’s gaze met the bluest pair of eyes he had ever seen, set in a handsome face that clearly showed the owner’s concern and curiosity. Then he caught a glimpse of what was underneath them and despite his injuries, Bruce yelped and flung himself at the man who had been carrying him in his arms.

“Get me down! Just get me down quick!”

Bruce wrapped his arms and legs round the stranger, trembling at the sight of the crater which stretched deep and far below him. For someone whose a pilot, Bruce was actually afraid of heights. It was not an issue when flying encased in his plane but remove him from his flying machine and heights immediately became a mind-numbing terror. So caught up was he in his fear that Bruce had yet to realise a startling fact – the two of them were hovering in mid-air without the aid of any mechanical devices.

“Hey! Don’t suddenly do that!” Kal protested, quickly adjusting his posture to accommodate the koala-bear-like clinging, “Aren’t you a little too frisky for someone with bruised ribs and enough blue-black to rival a Dalmation’s skin?”

But the human was not even listening, pressing himself closer as if trying to melt into him. Kal knitted his brows in consternation at the intimate body contact, feeling each puff of breath tickling his neck, sending shivers down his spine. Trying to divert his attention, he glanced at the natives and found them prostrating on the ground, arms stretched out in reverence towards the two of them. Frowning, Clark looked further down the slopes and spotted the damaged village.

_Oh, oh._

He grimaced, putting two and two together. Seemed like his rashness had once again caused trouble for others. Thank goodness he had arrived in the nick of time, attracted by the loud commotion. Otherwise...

Shaking off his morbid thoughts, Kal sprang into action. He had to fix everything fast, starting with the human in his arms.

“Hang on tight!”

He warned before zooming off, guilt pricking him as the human gave a strangled gasp of fright, suddenly buffeted by strong wind and air pressure. But he could not afford to slow down. Kara might already be hot on his trail. His cousin always had the knack of turning up, especially when he was up to no good (like sneaking off the Isles without permission to test his craft). He would rather that Kara not know what had happened. Cause Kara knowing = his parents knowing = punishment for him in the days ahead.

Within seconds, Kal was back at his craft which had crashed spectacularly but survived pretty intact (thanks to his latest invention). His heart sank when he caught sight of a person standing before the door of his craft, hands on her hips and eyes glaring daggers at him.

_“Ka...Kara!”_

Kal tried to land while shoving the human behind his back. He ended up tripping over himself, sending the two of them sprawling to the ground.

_“Kal! Are you alright?”_

Kara rushed forward and then faltered in her steps, eyes widening in horror at the sight of the human groaning, dazed and blinking blearily.

_“Rao! What have you done! The Council will throw a fit if...”_

_“I know I know!” _Kal interrupted his cousin as he picked himself up, _”But he was about to die and I can’t just not do anything about it.”_

_“Thousands of humans die everyday,” _Kara frowned in disapproval,_ “And we can’t go around saving all of them! Our race will be exposed and you know how Earth treat those who are different. That’s why the Council...”_

_“...disallow any contact with the outside world.”_

Kal finished the sentence with a bitter smile. Kara never understood. She stood on the side of the Council whereas Kal had never agreed with the isolationist fools. He believed that their race could do so much to help their second home even if it was to just serve as an example, warning the humans the consequence of not handling their only planet with care.

Not wanting to get into a fruitless argument with his cousin, Kal ignored her and focused on the human instead.

_“You okay?”_

Kal asked as he helped the human up, holding him steady when he swayed on his feet. Alarmed, Kal quickly scanned him, heaving a sigh of relief when his X-ray vision revealed that none of the injuries had worsened because of the fall.

“Dhivehi or English, please,” The human croaked hoarsely, “I’m tired of listening to words that I don’t have a fucking clue what they mean.”

_Oops._

Kal winced, forgetting in the heat of the moment that he had been using Kryptonian to converse with his cousin.

“Sorry,” Kal quickly switched over to Dhivehi, “Just wanted to ask if you’re okay.”

The human looked at him in surprise and Kal simply shrugged, not in the mood to explain why all Kryptonians had to learn Dhivehi when they sought refuge here after their planet’s destruction.

Realising that an answer was not forthcoming, the human frowned and then winced in pain, fingers fluttering up to probe the cut on his forehead. Kal’s heart twinge and before he realised it, he had reached out to wipe away the blood that had welled out and their fingers brushed against each other. Startled, the human froze and the two of them stared at each other, stirred by a confusing mix of emotions. Before Kal could retract his hand, the human suddenly grabbed it like a drowning man clutching at straws.

“Since you can fly, can you just fly me home to _Hulhule_, please?”

The desperate plea in the human’s eyes struck a chord with Kal and his expression softened. It must have been a hell of a day and if it was him, he too would want to go home, bury himself under the blankets and just forget. Kal was about to accede to the request when his cousin suddenly stepped in and pushed them apart. He immediately let go before he tore the human’s arm off, stumbling a few steps back. The human, however, went sprawling back onto the ground in a half-sitting position.

“That’s not going to happen, Human. You’ve seen us and you’re not going anywhere.”

Bruce stared at the stern-looking female and before he could ask anything, the stranger had spun her around to face him.

"What do you mean by he’s not going anywhere?”

“It means what it means. He has seen us and I will not let him back Outside and risk exposing our existence. I’m taking him back to...”

“You can’t do that!” The stranger shouted, “It’s cruel and we, of all people, should know better than to do that to someone else!”

“What in the world are you talking about?!” Bruce cut in as he got up, feeling as if he had jumped out from the frying pan only to discover that fire and not safety awaited him.

The female turned to him, eyes cold and unyielding.

“We’re talking about your fate, Human. You’re now a prisoner of Krypton and you’ll be confined to the Isles, never to leave until you live out your natural lifespan.”

Bruce gasped in disbelief, eyes darting wildly between the two of them before he stared beseechingly at the stranger.

“She can’t do that. She can’t, right? And it makes no sense. What can I do to threaten your existence? I’m but one man and who will believe me without any evidence?”

Shooting him a look of sympathy, the stranger made a last-ditch attempt to dissuade his cousin,

“Kara, what he says is right. He’s but one man and there’s no need to...”

“Are you trying to disobey the command of an Enforcer?” the female narrowed her eyes in warning, “Do you want to shame your parents’ honour yet again?”

The stranger clenched his fists, emotions warring on his face before he finally slumped his shoulders in defeat.

“I’ll not disobey,_ Khehth_. So please, do not burden my parents with the impropriety I’ve committed today. This I beg of you.”

Satisfied, the female clapped a hand on the stranger’s shoulder in a reconciliatory manner.

“I will keep today a secret so please do as I say. Escort the prisoner to your ship and take him back to the Isles. Tell the Council you had found him shipwrecked near our shores. He looked pretty much like it anyway.”

The female turned and gave Bruce a once over before turning back to the stranger.

"I’ll see to the people of this island. You’re lucky, Kal, that your accident happened here which has no Outside contact. They’ll think we’re just gods descended from the heavens.”

Kal nodded his head in acquiesce and the female flew off in the direction where Bruce and the stranger had come from.

Silence descended. Bruce stared into the distance, numb and exhausted, not bothering to make an escape. There was nowhere to go anyway, trapped as he was on an island with a bunch of hostile natives. Someone touched him and he jerked, taking a step back before he realised it was the stranger,

“I’m sorry, so so sorry...”

There were tears in the stranger’s eyes and unwillingness on his face as he took hold of Bruce’s arm, careful and gentle. Bruce did not resist, his thoughts elsewhere and his heart pierced by pangs of regret. He thought he would go back one day but now it was an impossible task. Images flitted across his mind – Alfred in the kitchen, his ancestral home shielded by tall trees, portraits of his parents hung in a huge dim room. All these, he would never see again and a desolate hopelessness welled up within him. Bruce closed his eyes, not caring if he would stumble or trip. 


	2. Chapter 2 - Captivity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce's life on the island of Krypton as an 'invited guest'.

Bruce had never been so free.

His life was usually a whirlwind of activities and even when he had run away from Gotham, he was not one to idle – drifting through a number of odd jobs before landing up in the Maldives.

But now, there was nothing much to do stuck on this island named Krypton as an invited guest.

_Invited guest..._

Bruce snorted, mocking and derisive, at that two words in his thoughts. Pausing his 200 push-ups, he flopped onto his back, chest heaving.

_What invited guest!_

Bruce stared up at the clean blue skies, sweat gleaming on his skin.

_Prisoner was more like it._

And stretched out a hand, his finger tracing the clouds wistfully.

Ever since his arrival here, his world had been reduced to this small patch of greenery, roughly 800 square feet in size, with a hut as his living quarters.

_Hut.._. 

Bruce snorted again at his poor choice of words, head turning sideways to stare at the egg-like structure that had become his home in the past month

“Definitely not from earth,” Bruce murmured as he, once again, marvelled at the beauty of the ‘hut’.

Made of a black-grey material that was as sturdy as concrete, yet displaying the fluidity of liquid. As a result, complex swirls and curves flowed across the exterior – graceful, mesmerising and very alien to Earth’s concept of architecture.

There were also no windows nor openings in the walls or ceilings. Yet somehow, the interior remained cool in the heat of day and warm in the cold of night. Only an arched indentation in the surface marked the entryway, now sealed by the very same material that made up the rest of the structure.

Getting into his new home was also a marvel of its own. All that Bruce needed to do was press his hand against the sealed surface, and the ‘door’ rapidly disintegrated into individual particles, melding into the walls and leaving an entrance. Once he had passed through, the very same round particles would coalesce like quicksilver, sealing the opening again.

_Too bad it doesn’t work on that. _

Sitting up, arms clutching a knee, Bruce tracked the perimeter of his prison with ease, even though the barrier was invisible to the eye. He had lost count of the number of times he had paced the length of it – testing and probing for a way to make his escape. For beyond it was a cliff and the open seas and freedom within sight. All he had to do was breach that damn transparent wall and then...

But the force field which do not burn nor electrify, was like a solid 8-inch wall, effectively trapping Bruce within. Smooth as a baby’s bottom (and Bruce chuckled at his use of simile), there were no cracks, no chinks, nothing that he could use to scale its tall height.

The only way in or out was through a certain Kryptonian’s biometrics that only the force field would recognised.

_Kal-El._

Bruce shook his head, a little vehemently, as recollection – a happy grin here, infectious laughter there and a pair of striking guilt-stricken eyes – filled his head.

He quickly jumped back into his workout, resuming his push-ups at a furious pace.

_Remember!_

Bruce barked at himself, fierce and admonishing.

_He’s your captor. Your CAPTOR. And you jolly well not have Stockholm syndrome over him._

But nevertheless, Bruce could not squash the little spark of anticipation at the thought of evening approaching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't expect this to become a multi-chapter. Had wanted to just write a one-shot but it just grew and grew.  
Thanks for reading so far, and you can find me on Tumblr - Superbat Addicted. Most of my drabbles are found there.
> 
> Will be aiming to update this in short chapters.


	3. Chapter 3 - Kal's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kal reminiscing about Bruce's situation.

Kal paused, hidden from view by the _zehdh_. Using his powers, he looked through the egg-like structure which now home to the only human on Krypton Islands. There, out in the little patch of greenery which came along with the _zehdh_, he spotted Bruce sitting cross-legged on the grass.

Wind ruffled the human’s hair but Bruce remained still, his breathing slow and light. Both his hands were resting on his knees, palms facing up and each of his thumb and forefinger had curled in to meet at the fingertips.

Mediation - Kal recalled Bruce telling him before.

_“Why do that?” Kal had asked, filled with curiosity about this strange human ritual._

_And Bruce after a moment’s pause, finally replied, “Helps to clear the mind.”_

Kal remembered how he had frowned then, not understanding why there was a need to do that. Isn’t it better to put your mind to good use then leave it empty and blank? But Bruce had deigned to explain further. Instead, he had shot Kal a look that told the Kryptonian to go figure out himself.

The human was always like that – taciturn and on guard. But, at least he was willing to interact with Kal now.

In the beginning, Bruce had been like the armadillo – a creature Kal came across on the internet. Buried in his armoured shell, he had been wary of Kal, treating the Kryptonian like a dangerous animal that could attack anytime.

Kal couldn’t blame him for acting so. For each and everyone on Krypton Islands could easily maim and end Bruce’s life with minimal effort.

Due to the radiation from the yellow sun, every Kryptonian had developed some form of super-ability. Most of them possessed super-strength. Some of them had X-ray visions just like him, while others were telekinetic or resistant to injuries.

But none of them had developed more than one or two super-abilities, unlike him. Even Kara who was an elite among the Kryptonians, could not match the range of superpowers Kal possessed. That, however, was a closely-guarded secret between Kal, his parents and Kara.

_“You must not let anyone know!” _

His father, Jor-El, had warned him when he began exhibiting his various super-abilities at the age of five.

_“Why can’t I?” _

Kal remembered himself whining, disappointed that he could not show off his ability to fly.

_“Kal...” his father had knelt down, face stern as he gripped his son’s shoulders, “Have I ever demanded anything of you?”_

_Hesitation, young Kal thinking it over before shaking his head. It was true. His father had never asked anything of him, had in fact, doted and indulged in his whim and fancy, Kal being his only child._

_Expression softening, Jor-El pressed a kiss to his forehead._

_“I know it’s going to be hard but please, you must do this for all our sakes, both Earth’s and Krypton’s.”_

Frightened by the fear that haunted his father’s eyes, young Kal had obeyed even though he couldn’t understand why. It was only after his coming-of-age that he finally understood his father’s reasons and was glad that he had listened to his father. 

“How long do you intend to stand there?”

A voice suddenly intruded into Kal’s reverie, startling him. Still using his powers, Kal’s breath hitched at the sight of Bruce standing before the _zehdh_, arms crossed and eyes staring at him.

_How did he know? _

Once again, Kal was taken aback by Bruce’s skills – able to detect him even though the human could not see through opaque objects. Moreover, Kal had made sure that he was as silent as a shadow during his approach but somehow, the human was still able to sense his presence.

Smiling sheepishly, Clark ended his X-ray vision and strode out into view. Waving a greeting at Bruce who had turned to face him, Kal pressed his palm against the invisible shield that cut off all access. Electronic blue light began to pulse beneath his palm, growing bigger and brighter before the light suddenly spilt into several laser-thin streaks. They zig-zagged across a portion of the shield’s surface before they vanished, leaving behind an entryway.

Under Bruce’s watchful gaze, Kal stepped through, his service robot, Kelex, trailing along behind him.

It was clear that Bruce was more interested in the robot than in the Kryptonian. His keen eyes tracked Kelex’s movements as the robot drifted past, a covered tray in its arms. At the same time, a part of the _zehdh_’s front wall disintegrated into tiny particles, each flowing and melding together to form a low table and two stools.

Kal came to a halt besides Bruce, letting the human analyse his robot to his heart’s content. He knew that Bruce’s interest was rooted in a desire to escape rather than a fascination with Kryptonian technology.

The human hasn’t given up yet despite the impossible odds. And Kal admired his indomitable spirit. Maybe that was why he couldn’t leave Bruce be, coming every evening to share the end-day meal with the human.

Actually, he didn’t need to do so. For Bruce was now under the High Council’s charge and Kal was no longer responsible for him. But he came anyway, driven by a mix of concern, guilt and curiosity.

He really wanted the human to be set free.

It was not fair, locking Bruce up just to protect Krypton’s secrecy. His people should have known better – the terrible feeling of not being able to go home forever – and Kal didn’t want Bruce suffering the same fate.

So until an opportunity arises, all Kal could do was be there, making sure that the human stayed safe and sane. That wasn’t too much of a chore for Bruce was an intriguing person and Kal truly wanted a friendship with the human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and you can find me on my Tumblr - Superbat Addicted.
> 
> Kryptonian Language  
zehdh - means home but I stretched the meaning further to include any type of residential dwelling.

**Author's Note:**

> I've taken liberties with the Dhivehi and Kryptonian languages, as well as the geographical and historical aspects of the Maldives. Do forgive my waywardness.
> 
> Use of the Dhivehi language  
(1) Vashafaru - An island in the Maldives with a population of less than 500.  
(2) Giraavaru - Supposed to be the original people who settled in the Maldives, and most likely came from India.  
(3) Gira - Just a short form of the name above so as to name the island.  
(4) Dhun - smoke  
(5) Ellun dhun alifann farubadha! - Throw Dhun into the fire volcano!  
(6) Ekeh, Dheyh, Thineh. - One, Two, Three.  
(7) Hulhule - A more populated island in the Maldives
> 
> Use of Kryptonian language  
(1) Khehth - It means honoured, esteemed etc. It's supposed to be an adjective but I used it as a noun instead.


End file.
